If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me
by define-serenity
Summary: [Barry/Eddie] For Eddie Thawne Central City represents a new start, a chance to leave the past behind and focus on the future. For Barry Allen it's a home, a past he's desperately trying to undo, and an uncertain future. Six-year old Eva Thawne makes both men realize that the Here-and-Now isn't particularly bad either.
1. Chapter 1

pre-relationship Barry/Eddie, 1355 words, pg-rated

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**_If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me_**

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"Hello," a cute voice sings from the doorway, and the half turn of his chair brings him eye to eye with a young girl, mysteriously appeared in his lab like a tiny genie out of a bottle.

His eyes skip back and forth across the breadth of the room before he manages a curious yet hesitant, "Hi," directed at his small guest, wandered in here all alone. She can't be more than six or seven, her frail blonde hair cascading down in curls, a blue headband keeping it from falling into her eyes, and he can't help but wonder how she found her way up here.

"Are you a police officer too?" The girl swivels her body in semicircles, shiny black shoes rooted firmly to the ground, big blue eyes trained on him, the fabric of her dress too thick to sway along with the movement.

"No, I'm not," he hears the sound of his own voice, though his thoughts race a million miles an hour. Where did this girl come from? Do her parents know that she's here? Are they downstairs? He's so taken with his own thoughts he scarcely considers actually looking for her parents. "I'm a CSI."

The little girl's nose crinkles. "What's that?"

"I uhm–" He frowns, and watches the girl unearth an asthma inhaler from behind her back– she puts it to her lips and takes a deep breath, her small shoulders rising and falling. "I do a lot of boring sciency stuff that helps the police catch bad guys."

"Science isn't boring." The girl shakes her head vehemently. "I'm good at science."

A smile skips past his lips, oddly taken with this charming girl.

"Can I see?" the girl asks, folding her arms neatly behind her back again.

"Are you supposed to be up here? Where's your mom and dad?"

"My mommy died when I was a baby," the girl answers, her tone almost matter-of-fact, like it happened so long ago the loss never managed to leave a permanent mark. It's a trait worthy of envy.

"I'm Barry," he says, his worries thawed with empathy; it's a small precinct, but his lab is probably the safest place for a kid to be – someone will come looking for her sooner or later.

The little girl smiles cutely, dimples in her cheeks. "I'm Eva."

"How would you like to analyze some dirt with me, Eva?"

Eva nods as passionately as she'd previously shook her head and marches over at an even stride; she struggles into a chair he finds in a corner of the lab, propped up on his jacket and a stray pillow he kept around for all-nighters – soon she turns all wide-eyed and exciteful squeals over learning how to operate the mass spectrometer, and claps her hands once the machine spits out the results.

They're at it for close to half an hour; he finds a juice box and some cookies in his locker for her to enjoy, swinging her legs back and forth because they don't quite touch the ground.

"_Eva_?" a familiar voice travels across the room, the hasty tap of footsteps on the floor outside. He'd know that voice anywhere. "Eva!" the voice sounds again, before none other than Detective Eddie Thawne makes his way into his lab, a bit worse for wear. His eyes widen at the sight of the precinct's golden boy, a button or two loosened on his shirt, lacking his usually pristine vest and jacket.

"Oh, thank God," the blond breathes, and hurries over to crouch by Eva's side, his blue eyes– _his matching blue eyes_ riddled with concern. "I told you to stay at my desk."

He rises from his chair as Eva places both her hands on Eddie's face. "But your desk is boring, daddy. You don't even have any magic markers."

His heart starts; Eddie Thawne is a father? Never in a million years would he have pegged Eddie as a parent, his life seemed too organized and –for lack of any other word– too pristine to accommodate anything as messy as a child. Did Joe know about this? Does anyone know about this? Last time he checked, and he's checked quite a few times, there weren't any personal items on Eddie's desk, or taped to the inside of his locker, unlike most people here. Eddie struck him as kind and courteous, if not too eager to prove himself in his new job, but a good man nonetheless; most of their interactions so far had been professional, even though there was little reason for them to be anything but. Eddie simply didn't seem like the kind of person who had room in his life for a daughter, however cute she might be.

But he thinks he wouldn't be half that interested in figuring out Detective Eddie Thawne if he wasn't so intrigued by the handsome detective. He'd caught the other man staring at him more than once, and while their conversations remained professional, impersonal almost, he couldn't help but appreciate how Eddie had few issues with invading his personal space, hovering over him when he read results off the computer, or a friendly pat on the back when they walked-and-talked. Eddie Thawne wasn't so much a mystery as he was a riddle he couldn't wait to solve.

"I know, sweetie, I'm sorry." Eddie grabs hold of his daughter's hands. "But I have to know I can trust you, okay? Don't ever run off without saying."

"Okay, daddy." Eva jumps out of her chair and into her dad's arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck as Eddie rises from the ground.

"Hey, Allen."

Their eyes finally meet in the room turned a whole lot smaller; there was something about the way Eddie always called his name that pulled him closer, the two syllables sounding more familiar than they should rolling off Eddie's lips, but a nice thing to hear nonetheless. Eddie also struck him as the kind of man few ever disliked. And if he thought he wasn't warm before, watching his eyes alight with love for his daughter definitely proved it now.

"Daddy, this is my new friend, Barry!" Eva calls loudly. "He showed me how to use the massive spectometer."

Eddie laughs fondly. "Did he?"

"She said she liked science." His face falls, aware now that he'd kept Eddie's daughter hostage while she should have been downstairs at his desk, waiting for her father to finish whatever he needed to. He should have gone _looking for someone_. "I hope that's okay."

"Of course." Eddie nods, as fondly as he'd spoken to Eva a few seconds before, and his cheeks heat by a few noticeable degrees. So yes, Eddie Thawne might have had a noticeable effect on him the moment they'd met a few weeks ago. "I had no idea you were good with kids."

"Neither did I, to be honest." He scratches the back of his head, uncomfortable underneath Eddie's gaze with Eva there with them. Flirting with a colleague was one thing; flirting with him in front of his daughter was a line he won't cross.

Eddie bounces Eva in his arms. "What do you say we grab some dinner, kiddo?"

"Nuggets!"

"Nuggets it is," Eddie concludes, and nods, soon finding his eyes again. "Thanks for watching her, Barry."

The sound of his first name seems foreign on Eddie's tongue, but he wouldn't mind hearing it more often. He's not sure he should get involved any more than he has so far, though – it's one thing to go against the rules and want to date someone he works with; getting involved with a single dad, if Eddie's even single at all, that might be too far outside his comfort zone.

He grins crookedly, digging his hands into his pockets. "Not a problem."

Eddie turns and heads for the door again, Eva waving at him over her father's shoulder. "Bye, Barry."

He waves back and waits for Eddie to disappear before sinking down in his chair again, and he can't decide if his daytime fantasies of a half-naked Eddie Thawne have been ruined or improved.

It doesn't take him long to decide on the latter.

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**_fin_**

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	2. Chapter 2

pre-relationship Barry/Eddie, 2500 words, pg-rated

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**_If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me_**

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"Daddy, where do nuggets come from?" Eva inquires, her arms raised over her head so he can slip on her PJs without the struggle that usually ensues. Coming home with Eva every night starts a routine that unwinds the tension the job leaves at the base of his neck at the end of a long day; homework, dinner, playtime, and a bath all flow into one another, both for his and Eva's sake. He likes the structure. Eva needs the structure.

"Chickens, baby," he answers without thinking, though he scarcely has the heart to tell her the truth – if Eva were to hear her favorite food exists because chickens died to make it she might choose to become a vegetarian, which he wouldn't mind, but he couldn't live with the thought of adding any dent to his baby girl's heart.

"Like eggs?" Eva turns around, tugging her hair behind her ears like a real little lady. The parenting books told him an inquisitive phase would pop up sooner or later, and Eva's been nothing but 'Daddy, what's this?' and 'Daddy, what's that?' since they moved to Central City – he dreads the day she inevitably asks him where babies come from; the books advised him to prepare, but he's at a loss on how to handle that one.

"Just like eggs." He smiles and boops her nose, making Eva scrunch up her face and giggle, starting the whole next routine of actually getting her into bed.

Before he can suggest hot cocoa, though, someone knocks at the front door.

Eva gasps, and places an index finger over her lips, the other raised as if to say, '_Quiet! I think I hear someone_!'

"Who could that be?" He feigns along, gesturing at Eva to follow behind.

They both head for the front door and he opens it without checking to see who it is first. If he had he could've prepared for the sight of one Barry Allen, and he might not have breathed, "Barry," quite so enthusiastically.

"Hi." Barry's eyebrows rise, as if he, too, hadn't figured out what to say yet, "Sorry to bother you, but–"

Eva appears in the doorway. "Barry!"

"Hey, Eva." Barry smiles down at Eva, his attention wholly drawn to the little girl by his side. He'd been surprised to find her in Barry's lab earlier today; despite her love for science Eva's picky about the people she gets attached to. She's a lot like her dad, in that respect. "I love your PJs."

He looks down at his daughter, who perks up. "They're dinosaurs!" she shouts, her voice travelling the length of the hallway while she points at the tiny dinosaurs printed all over her pajamas. "I have to show you my teddy!" she says, and leaves dull thumps on the carpeted floor as she hightails it to her bedroom.

He turns back to Barry. "Whatever you do, do not mention _The Land of Time_," he warns, aware it will mean watching the entire movie before Eva agrees to go to bed. As long as she doesn't hear the title of the movie she tends not to realize its existence, but even he slips up from time to time.

Barry exhales a breathy laugh.

It's odd seeing the CSI at his doorstep so spontaneously; most of their interactions up until now had been as professional as he could muster, because a new job meant a certain level of professionalism before he could even think about becoming friends with anyone. Barry, however, uncoordinated mess that he was, had left a swift impression on him since day one. Everyone knew his story; a young boy pretty much orphaned when his dad went to prison for his mom's murder, raised by one of the CCPDs own, detective Joe West. The truly remarkable thing about Barry Allen was that for all the tragedy he'd been through, he was one of the kindest people he'd ever met. Not everyone made it through tragedy quite so unscathed. He'd always been grateful Eva was too young to remember her mom's death.

"She uh–" Barry digs around in his pocket and unearths Eva's asthma inhaler, "left this at the lab."

He chuckles; he raised Eva to be thoughtful and mindful of her personal belongings, but she can't be trusted with her inhalers. "You didn't have to come all this way."

"I thought she might need it." Barry shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets as soon as he's handed over the inhaler, accentuating his long lean built. He can't deny he hasn't taken notice of certain specific features in Barry's anatomy, the strong jawline, thin lips, endless legs, not in the least the dozens of freckles he wonders about.

"Barry, look!" Eva comes storming back, her stuffed triceratops pushed to her chest. "This is Cera. It's short for Ticera– Tricera–"

He cups the back of Eva's head, mulling through her curls. "Triceratops, sweetie."

"Triceratops!" Eva's eyes alight. "Get it?"

"I do." Barry smiles wide, a smile he's skillfully hid at the CCPD up until now, and he wouldn't mind seeing more of. "That's very clever. I was always more of a stegosaurus kind of guy."

Eva draws in a short breath, before she throws her head back and tersely fixes her blue eyes on him, tugging at a leg of his pants. "Can Barry have cocoa and 'mallows with us, daddy? Can he?"

"I'm sure Barry has other places to be, sweetheart." He stares down at his daughter apologetically, but chances a look at Barry nonetheless; maybe the CSI would be willing to continue his knight in shining armor routine for a bit longer. Eva seems especially taken with him. A lot like her dad, too, in that respect.

"I don't want to impose," Barry says, but doesn't appear to be making a move to go anywhere.

"It's a bedtime tradition." He waves Barry in. "Come on, it's the least I can do."

A few moments later he has a hesitant Barry Allen in his living room, and a daughter jumping up and down on the couch, and he's not quite sure when his neatly structured rule of keeping professional and private separate started to unravel. He supposes it began when his babysitter quit out of the blue to join Doctors Without Borders – even he hadn't seen that coming when he hired her a few weeks before. He doesn't like mixing it all, home and work, now Eva and Barry, even though they're getting along better than he could have ever imagined.

"Are you sure she should have any more sugar?" Barry asks, following him into the kitchen, but not before eyeing the energetic toddler still jumping on the couch.

"Believe it or not, hot cocoa and marshmallows put her right to sleep."

"Neat trick." Barry leans back against the kitchen counter while he warms some milk.

"It's okay to say it, you know." He looks at Barry sideways, watching the other man's eyebrows rise again in question. "Never pegged you for a father?"

"You just seem so–" Barry shrugs, "put together."

He smiles at that. When he was first left all alone with Eva, still mourning Julie and only his mother around to help, he struggled to balance his job with irregular hours with a colicky baby at home. There were times he didn't think he'd make it, that he'd have to quit the Force and find some nice 9-to-5 so he could actually be there for his daughter. He would've given up everything if it meant being able to be her mom and her dad, but even his mother agreed he shouldn't leave a job he loved. What kind of message would that send to Eva when she grew up? The very thought of her actually growing up nearly sunk him through the ground too, but over the years, six beautiful years now, they've come quite a way, and they're a real team.

As if on cue his sunshine breezes in, ready for her favorite part of the night: dunking the chocolate into the milk.

"You sure you're ready for this, kiddo?"

Eva salutes. "Aye, captain!"

Barry forgotten, he reaches down for Eva while she stretches her arms out like she's an airplane, and he hovers her carefully over the pot of milk. "Watch your hands," he cautions, but Eva daintily drops in the pieces of chocolate, watching them melt steadily to make her hot cocoa.

He sets her down again and high-fives his daughter. "Well done, partner."

Eva giggles and inches back until she hits Barry's legs. Barry flinches but smiles down at Eva, and Eva stays right where she is. What is it about Barry Allen that has both Thawnes so– _smitten?_

"Sorry," he says, suddenly conscious of Barry's presence again – he worries a lot as a parent, he worries for two even, but one of the most amazing things about being a dad is how he forgets the rest of the world when he's with Eva. Even on his own, on the job, Eva is his entire world, his biggest worry, his greatest love. Maybe that's why it's taking him so much time making friends. "She brings out the worst in me."

"If this is your worst I'd hate to see you at your best," Barry jokes.

He blinks up at green eyes, while a frown knits Barry's eyebrows together. Barry's lack of filter might also be one of the things he's taken notice of.

All three of them settle at the kitchen table with a cup of hot chocolate and a fair amount of small marshmallows swimming at the top. Eva swings her legs back and forth underneath her chair and blows bubbles into her milk, while Barry explains the intricate anatomy of a stegosaurus; thankfully he avoids saying 'Spike' or any other reference to _The Land of Time_, so Eva listens in silence, her beautiful eyes wide, nodding every few seconds because she either already knows what Barry says in great detail or she's excited to hear it.

An interest in science is one thing he doesn't have in common with his daughter, so he's tried stimulating that by buying her books and movies, even documentaries, but nothing beats a fellow enthusiast whose eyes shine much the same way Eva's do when she's excited about something.

He's silent for most of the conversation, content to watch Barry and Eva talk. Eva needs more positive influences like Barry in her life, or a role model; he'd hoped the babysitter would help with that but she's off in Zimbabwe somewhere saving lives.

"Go brush your teeth while I show Barry out," he tells Eva once she empties her cup and deposits it in the sink. It's late, and tomorrow this whole circus starts all over again; they both need some sleep.

Eva tracks over to Barry, dragging her feet a little, but jumps up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Barry," she says, and without sparing either of them another glance she leaves the kitchen. He never raised Eva to get so attached to strangers, did he?

He walks Barry back to the front door, almost reluctant to let him go. What is it about Barry Allen? He shouldn't even be thinking about words like _smitten_ or any part of Barry's anatomy, he has responsibilities, and mixing his home life with work could get messy.

"Thanks for this, Barry."

"Not a problem." Barry turns in the doorway, scratching the back of his head. "She's a great kid."

"Maybe–" he starts, softening his voice so he doesn't come on too strong. "_If you'd like_." This could get so terribly messy. "You'll let me buy you a cup of coffee sometime. Without the bratlet around."

Barry draws in a breath and nods a few times before he answers, "S-sure", and he tries his best to pretend his eyes don't fall straight to Barry's lips.

"Night, Barry," he says, fingers curling tight around the door handle. Coffee's just coffee, it doesn't have to mean anything more– coffee is a noncommittal potential thing, right? He's been out of the game for too long to know for sure.

"Night."

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He leaves the Thawnes with a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, though he's none too sure if that's the hot cocoa's doing or Eddie's scruffy voice asking him out. Did Eddie even ask him out, or will this coffee be a friendly thank you for being so nice to Eva? He doesn't need a thank you, it's not hard to be nice to any kid, let alone one as adorable and well-behaved as Eva. Does he even want to go out with Eddie?

"What's with the face?" is the first thing Iris asks as he pushes through the doors to Jitters, a coffee shop not too far from the precinct, and his foster sibling's part-time job to stay ahead of her college loans.

"I think Eddie asked me out." He plunks down at one of the high tables, the shop nearly empty, safe for a few stragglers at the back.

Iris raises an eyebrow.

"Eddie Thawne?" he prompts. "The new transfer from Keystone."

Iris nods slowly. "Detective Pretty Boy."

His eyebrows knit together. Detective _what_?

"That's what my dad calls him," Iris explains, sitting down opposite him. "You're not into him?"

"No, I am." He takes a deep breath, folding his arms on top of the table. He's really _really_ into Eddie Thawne; the strong built and gorgeous smile, bright blue eyes, the waistcoats and that thing he does pulling at his belt. If none of those had peeked his interest before, his kind countenance and the adorable way he acts with Eva would've been enough to convince him. But Eddie's older and he has different responsibilities, he's at a completely different point in his life, and– "He just– he has a kid, and–"

"He's a brat?"

"_She_ is completely adorable," he corrects. If someone had told him he'd end his evening with Eddie and Eva Thawne talking about stegosauri he would have laughed that person out of the room. Incidentally, Eva liked dinosaurs, and he liked dinosaurs, Eva, and her dad. His entire day had spun into something he had not expected. "I just had hot cocoa with them at their kitchen table. She likes science and dinosaurs–"

"Then what's with the face?"

"Should I even think about dating a guy with a kid?"

"A hot guy with an adorable daughter who speaks your language? Stop making excuses."

He scoffs. "You don't know he's hot."

"I inferred." Iris beams. "What's the worst that could happen?"

He blinks a few times. _What is_ the worst that could happen? He could fall for Eddie Thawne, a cop at the same precinct he works, a guy with a six-year old, a guy he could never have a normal date with because he has this little person who relies on him for everything. He could fall for that little person and get attached and then do something stupid to screw everything up.

But where's the risk if he doesn't take a chance in the first place?

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**_tbc_**

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	3. Chapter 3

pre-relationship Barry/Eddie, 2555 words, pg-rated

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_**If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me**_

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It's just coffee, he thinks for the fifteenth time in a five-minute time span, just a cup of coffee. He does this with Iris all the time, catch up over a steaming mug, talk about their day, and there are never any strings attached. He's stood next to Eddie nursing a cup of Jitters coffee before, at briefings at the precinct, during meetings in Singh's office, why would this be any different? He sighs and draws a nervous hand down his face, licking his lips – it's different because they'll be alone, they'll be two men enjoying a nice conversation and everyone will think they're on a date. _Does that make it a date_?

Oh God, what has he gotten himself into?

"You need to relax," Iris voice sounds in his ear, her breath warm, a hand at his shoulder, and for the briefest of moments he relaxes. "He's a hot single dad who's raised a cute kid. He won't bite."

He scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's not helping."

Iris rolls her eyes and moves on to her other tables.

He's not afraid to be in a room with Eddie, he wouldn't be afraid to go out on a date with Eddie, but neither of them said the word 'date' when they pinned down the time and place yesterday. In fact he thinks both of them were trying really hard not to use the word at all. He's still undecided if dating a guy with a kid was a risk he should take; Eva's already gotten attached to him, and truth be told, he's taken a liking to her too. So he wouldn't want to break her heart should it turn out he and Eddie aren't compatible.

What about his own heart though?

He hasn't been out on a date in months, all his time divided between work and researching his mom's case, chasing every strange case he could get his hands on, eating up the news about the Starling City vigilante. The last guy who took him out got pissed he showed up late and spent the rest of the night talking about his ex. Eddie might be the first decent guy who's caught his eye _in years_. Which might be the saddest damn thing he's ever admitted to.

The bell above the door jingles and he looks up to find Eddie making his way towards him.

He waves a hand accompanied by a, "Hey," that's too silent to travel across the room. _Great_. Before he can take a deep breath and brace for what could be another disaster though, Eva comes darting from behind Eddie.

"Barry!" she shouts for the entire coffee shop and runs over to where he'd reserved a settee for him and Eddie. Eva clambers into the empty seat, coat and all, and claps her hands. "Surprise!"

"Hey," Eddie breathes when he finally reaches him, shrugged halfway out of his coat. "I am so sorry. I'm having the hardest time finding a babysitter these days. You'd think Central City's run out of them."

"That's okay." He shrugs, and smiles. "I'm sure we can find something to talk about."

To be honest, with Eva there his stress levels lower to a slightly elevated heart rate. He's never been alone with Eddie outside of work and he honestly doesn't know what they could talk about. What do people talk about on a date?

By the time all coats have been removed and given a proper place Eva has found a more comfortable spot on the floor, smack in between his and Eddie's legs.

"I could ask around for you," he starts awkwardly. "For a babysitter."

"You're sweet." Eddie smiles, which does little to steady his nerves; he'd already decided he quite liked Eddie Thawne and getting to know him threatens to push him over that fine line between smitten and seriously interested. "I'm a single dad. I'm new to town. They just have to get to know me."

"You're a cop. That has to count for something."

"Something I learned early on?" Eddie's eyebrows rise. "Guns make people nervous. Whether you carry one legally or not."

"That sucks."

"Yeah," Eddie laughs. "It does."

He smiles back, but it isn't long before he averts his eyes, his face burning hotter with every second that passes. Maybe talking to Eddie wouldn't be all too difficult; stopping himself from staring holes through him, on the other hand, might be a feat.

"Hello, boys," –Iris comes to his aid–, "What can I get for you–" –her eyes fall down to Eva– "For you three?"

Iris kneels down to meet Eva at eyelevel. "Hey, sweetie. What's your name?"

Eva smiles up at Iris. "My name is Eva Thawne. And my daddy's out on a date with Barry!"

His eyes shoot up at Eddie, whose eyes mirror his horrified expression, enough for his heart to dent the inside of his ribcage. Eddie talked about this with Eva? He actually sat her down at told her what they were going out to do? Eddie hadn't even called it a date to his face, why would he talk to Eva in those terms?

"Sweetie." Eddie looks down at his daughter. "It's not a–"

But Iris interrupts before Eddie can finish that sentence, much to his dismay and growing confusion. "I think you have earned a hot chocolate, young lady." She beams. "Come with me."

Eva and Iris stand, Eva taking Iris by the hand.

"I'll bring you two your usual order."

As soon as Iris and Eva are out of earshot Eddie scoots to the tip of his seat. "I never called it a date." He shakes his head, the apology reflected in his blue eyes both touching and adorable. "That's her overactive imagination talking. She's never seen me out with anyone before."

"Yeah, no, it's–" he starts, but before he can breathe relief his brain catches up to his mouth. "Anyone?"

In her six years Eva has never seen Eddie out with anyone? So this is a date after all. Or a very fledgling attempt towards one.

"Eva is my priority." Eddie shrugs one shoulder. "What I want comes second."

Maybe it's not just coffee, maybe it's what Eddie _wants_.

"I don't mean–" Eddie sighs, clearly struggling to get the right words out, but if anyone understands what that feels like it's him. "Asking you out is the first thing I've done for myself in a long time."

Strangely, the moment it's actually out there, he can't look away – he smiles a little awkwardly but the blue eyes across from him are so genuine, Eddie's words incredibly relatable. He hasn't done anything for himself for much longer than he can remember; he doesn't go on dates because he doesn't put himself out there, all his time going to his mom's case or his job, and sometimes those two are intricately connected. Saying yes to this date is the first thing he's done with the sole purpose of getting to know someone in forever.

"Here you go, boys." Iris comes back with their coffees, depositing them on a small side table, but seems to sense they don't need her to come to their aid. "I'll keep Eva entertained for as long as I can."

Eddie smiles gratefully. "Thanks, Iris."

Iris returns to the counter, where Eva's being taught the intricacies of making hot chocolate with a fancy machine by one of the other baristas. Iris, as his oldest and most loyal friend, knows him better than anyone; she knows when he's sad, when he's struggling, when he's nervous about a date despite the fact that she hasn't seen him like this often. There's no one in his life he's more grateful for than Iris and Joe.

"You two go back a long way."

He returns his attention to Eddie. "We grew up together, after my mom died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sips his coffee. "I mean, it sucks, but I'm so lucky Joe took me in. He's amazing, raising me as his own. It can't have been– Well, you're a single dad, you know how hard it must be."

"Yeah."

His mom would've liked Eddie, he thinks, a thought that catches him unaware. He never lets any fantasy scenarios touch his conscious mind, dreams of his mother still alive, his father a doctor and not an inmate at Iron Heights – it's too painful for him to imagine the what-ifs, because nothing would ever bring his mom back or undo all the damage the man in yellow did.

"How did–" He starts, only aware of how ruinous the question could be once it's already formed on his lips. But Eddie's opened a place in his heart he tries not to keep open for too long, a place that had endeared Eva to him the moment she'd said her mom died too. "Eva said her mom–"

"Eva's mom, Julie, was a cop too," Eddie says, showing little to no apprehension talking about this. "She was killed in the line of duty when Eva was eleven months old."

Somehow it all makes sense now, Eddie the dad, a man of contradictions if ever he saw one. From the outside his life seemed so organized, so clean, while at home he had a toddler with a passion for science and dinosaurs, a little girl who'd become Eddie's world after her mom died. He likes that complete picture.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Eddie looks back at Eva. "She doesn't remember much."

"But you do."

When Eddie finds his eyes again he's not sure if he said it for his or Eddie's benefit, if his own memories of his own terrible night don't taint others' retelling of theirs, but they probably do. He can't hear stories like Eva's, like Eddie's, without taking into account his own. That's what makes them relatable. He understands the pain Eddie must feel, must still feel, for himself, for Eva, has traced the outlines of it with his own fingers and has been left with paper cuts that barely ever heal.

Eddie nods. "Julie was an amazing woman. She would've been a great mom."

"Were you two–"

"Married?" Eddie asks. "No. Neither of us were really into that."

In that moment he feels like eons separate him and Eddie; he's already lived this entire life with a different person, they had a child together, and here he is at twenty-five holding together the pieces of a small and empty life, his mom's case his sole concern. Sometimes he wishes he had superpowers, that he could live two billion lives at once, that he could fight like the Arrow and stop all the injustice tearing this world down. He has to believe there are more people like the Arrow out there, fighting against corruption, cleaning the streets. He has to believe in superpowers, how else does he explain what happened to him that night fifteen years ago?

Maybe he's lived a lifetime already too. Just a little less significant than Eddie's.

"Why did you ask me out?" he blurts out, none too sure why, in that exact moment, if maybe simply to change the subject. He has few problems talking about his mom, or what happened that night, but that doesn't mean the same extends to Eddie.

Eddie grins. "Why do I get the feeling you do this about as often as I do?"

He huffs a laugh, even though it's not something to smile about.

"I like you, Barry," Eddie confesses, his eyes softening. "That's why I asked you out."

He blushes but he's happy to hear it, even though he's still not convinced it's a decision he won't regret. He's never gambled with his heart before, and he has no idea if he's any good at it.

Three seconds later, Eva wanders over to her dad, sinking against his legs. "Daddy, I'm sleepy," she says, rubbing at her eyes, resting her head in her dad's lap. He remembers doing that when he was younger; his mom would kiss his forehead and run a hand through his hair, call him her little champion and carry him of to bed. He likes the thought of Eddie doing that for Eva.

"Yeah?" Eddie draws a hand through Eva's hair. "We'll head home in a minute."

Eddie's eyes offer him another apology.

He nods his forgiveness. "You knew the risk when you let her have hot chocolate."

"Barry, can you tuck me in tonight?" Eva asks, her eyes closed. The request isn't that unexpected given how eager Eva seems to have him in her dad's life, and he'd acquiesce her every wish in a heartbeat if he thought Eddie would let him – but it's too much too soon, and like Eddie said, Eva is his first priority. Eddie has to do what's best for Eva first, and letting her get attached to someone who might potentially not remain in her dad's life, well, that's asking for trouble. Somehow that only makes him like Eddie more.

"No, sweetie. Barry's not coming home with us."

"But I wanna hear more about the dinosaurs," Eva argues, and pouts.

"For another time, I'm afraid," he says, but the little girl doesn't so much as open her eyes again.

"I should go," Eddie says, and struggles Eva out of his lap so he can put her coat on again. Easier said than done, as by the time he finishes Eva is fast asleep on Eddie's shoulder.

"Maybe I should walk you home."

"No, I've got it," Eddie says, a strong hold on the little girl in his arms while he pays for his coffee and tips Iris. He's clearly done this many times before. "If she wakes up and sees you–"

Right, she'll definitely need him to come inside and tuck her in lest she scream for the entire neighborhood. Even though they weren't living together at the age of six, he remembers Iris' bedtime temper tantrums all too well.

"Got it."

"I had a really nice night." Eddie touches a hand to his arm, which drops away too soon. If they do end up doing this again, they should head somewhere less crowded, where they can really be alone, really talk, really touch. He'd really like that. "For as long as it lasted."

"Me too." He smiles. "Maybe I could convince Iris to babysit sometime."

"That sounds great," Eddie breathes a smile. "Goodnight, Barry."

"Night, Eddie."

He watches Eddie turn and head for the door, skillfully juggling himself and a six-year old through it, soon disappearing from sight. He wants to take the risk of getting hurt, he wants to take a chance on Eddie and on Eva, because he can't keep living his life the way he has been. At the end of the day he still wants someone to share it with too, even if it might not seem like much of a life so far. Eddie could be good for him, Eva is definitely good for him, so why not? Who ever gets anywhere in life without taking chances?

"Barry, you have to marry that man." Iris bumps shoulders with him. "Because if you don't, I will."

He smiles. That's exactly the kind of opening he needs to convince Iris to babysit.

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**_tbc_**

_._


	4. Chapter 4

pre-relationship Barry/Eddie, 3005 words, pg-rated

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_**If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me**_

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He sags back in his chair, fingers locking together at the back of his head, his spine cracking after hours of sitting immobile behind his desk.

Slow days at work usually meant catching up on paper work, type up witness statements and incident reports, review old cases should he have to head into court – all things most cops are allergic to. He didn't mind; there was something oddly reassuring about his phone not ringing, no one in dire need of his assistance, a normal nine-to-five for a change. With any luck he'll be able to pick up Eva from school, make her dinner, tuck her in on time without having to call on a neighbor to watch her. He'd rather not ask Mrs Cole for help again.

He never became a cop for the action; long ago it was a way to go against his father's wishes, get away from politicians and diplomats and actually give back to Keystone rather than leech off it. It only gradually became a calling. As a rookie cop he saw his fair share of drug dealers, petty theft and prostitution, some armed robberies, car chases and abused wives, but none of that compared with what he saw as a detective. Suddenly the job wasn't just a job, it was something he was always meant to do; helping people, saving them, bringing justice to those who couldn't get it for themselves, so much so that he couldn't give it up when Eva came along.

Julie didn't want him to quit his job, even though she cut back on her hours – they had his mom and Julie's parents to help and they'd make due. And for a good while there they did.

After losing Julie the precinct gave him a lot of free time to figure things out, though his captain always assured him there'd be a place for him when he got back. He had to cut back on his hours, rely on his mom more than ever, but in the midst of all of that loss and heartache and chaos there was a little girl that was half Julie and half him.

It's not easy, he doubts any single parent ever truly has it easy, but he and Eva make it work.

He lets his eyes wander over his desk, impersonal compared to every other desk in the bullpen – in Keystone his desk had a picture of Julie and of Eva, a new drawing Eva made every week or so, but everyone knew him there, they'd seen him make detective, if they didn't know his father they knew his mother, they'd seen him and Julie fall in love and start a family. Every detail of his life felt like a matter of public record, which suited him fine. Until the fateful day that it didn't.

In Central City his life didn't need to be an open book, he could control what people knew about him so when he started here a few weeks ago he hadn't felt the need to divulge every detail that led him here. He's not ashamed of Eva, the entire precinct had either heard or seen her prance around last week, but just for a while keeping his private life separate seemed like the right thing to do. No matter what, Eva has been his priority for the better part of six years; he's done little for himself that wasn't in some way for her too, and he wouldn't go back and change anything.

Now that Eva has somehow coaxed Barry into their lives, he can't help but wonder if he's been missing out. For lack of any better analogy, Barry felt like a ray of sunshine, maybe not as bright as Eva's whimsical fairy light, but he provided kindness and warmth where he'd allowed cold to freeze him in place. However little time they've spent together, he's been having a great time getting to know Barry; maybe that's all it will ever be, but he's up for finding that out.

"Have you seen the kid's blog?" a uniformed officer passes behind him, halting near the row of cabinets that lines the walls. "_Wide world of weird_. Priceless."

"Lab rat or not," another officer replies. "He helps close cases. Kid's a genius."

The short fly-by conversation soon dies out, though it lingers in his mind; he's worked here long enough to know people call Barry 'the kid', either because he's the youngest person working at the precinct or because of his fresh face, but Captain Singh doesn't like that sort of talk – like the officers said, Barry's kind of a genius, so young or not, he deserves some credit.

He's never heard anything about a blog though, not that it's such a crazy notion. Barry seems exactly like the kind of person who would keep a blog.

For lack of anything better to do he pulls his keyboard closer, finding the blog through a few concise searches. And when he heard the words 'wide world of weird' he's sure he expected something, but now whatever he finds; Barry's a scientist, a man of rules and logic and explanations, and while there are some pretty freaky things out there his entire blog seems to be dedicated to things that can't possibly be real – transmutation, telekinesis, telepathy... what was next, _time travel_? Each entry on the blog outlines a case Barry seems to have actually investigated, not all of them in Central City. Where did he find the time or willpower to put so much work into this?

He hasn't heard Barry talk about this stuff, at work, or the few moments they've had in private, yet it's clearly a well-known fact around the precinct. How long has Barry been chasing the impossible?

"Are you reading my blog?" Barry's voice startles him from his reading, and he looks up to find him standing tall beside him, eyes narrowing on his monitor. Now that he thinks about it, his computer screen is much too visible to anyone walking into the bullpen. The last thing he wants is for Barry to think he talks about him behind his back too. He values Barry, as a colleague, as a friend, as a man in his life who could potentially be more.

"Slow workday," he says, and closes the website, hoping he manages to sound curious rather than judgmental. Just because he doesn't understand doesn't mean he's not willing to. "You're really into this stuff."

"Yeah." Barry frowns, eyes flickering across the room. "Have you seen Joe or Chyre?"

"Coffee run."

Barry bites nervously at his lip and nods, but can't seem to bring himself to meet his eye. He straightens in his chair, about to ask if everything's all right, but Barry turns on his heel and leaves. Was it something he said? Should he not have been reading the blog? It's a perfectly innocent hobby, it's not something Barry should be afraid or embarrassed to share with him.

He gets up a bit uncertain, backtracking to his desk three times before he decides to follow behind, out of the bullpen, up the stairs, down the hall that leads to Barry's lab. Should he even say anything? Maybe Barry was busy, maybe he'd misread the situation, maybe something else was bothering Barry, and he doesn't want to mess anything up before whatever they have has really started. His gut tells him it's more though, that Barry carries a weight he shoulders all on his own – it's not noticeable all the time, it's in the quiet moments when he drops his guard and a young boy shines through in his eyes. That boy's been hurt, that boy lost his parents a long time ago.

It's that last thought which finally propels him through the door, has him confront Barry rather than ignore the fact that he might have done something wrong.

Barry's behind his desk, peering down the lenses of his microscope, making notes blindly.

"Are you okay?" he asks, the question slipping past any defenses he might have in place after years of being alone. If he's serious about Barry, if he wants to get to know him or allow him to play a part –any part– in Eva's life, this has to come from both sides. Barry, this thing, _whatever it is_, would be for him, so wonderfully selfish, but he still has to think about Eva too.

Barry swivels his chair around, a breath of fresh air as his eyebrows rise in a soft, "Hmm?"

He takes an awkward step closer, open and exposed in the large room that somehow seems bigger than it did before. "Was I not meant to read your blog?"

Barry averts his eyes, carefully considering his answer, his shoulders soon relaxing. "People they– they don't always understand."

Does Barry know that people talk about him behind his back? The thought alone makes his skin buzz, an all too familiar anger crawling underneath his skin, the need to protect, to serve, even though he's pretty sure Barry's more than capable of taking care of himself.

"Hobbies?"

A pained expression flashes over Barry's face, one he has no desire to ever see or be the cause of again. "It's not a hobby though." Barry shakes his head. "This is real for me. I believe that the impossible is possible."

"Even as a scientist?" another question tumbles haphazardly from his lips, but not because he's confused; with Barry he wants to soak up as much as he possibly can, before Eva or an emergency whisks him away again. Half the reason he hasn't dated is because he has so little time to himself to begin with, so why waste that precious time on awkward dates or things that don't work out. It's different with Barry, he'd spend every moment he has left with him, and it's such an out-of-nowhere feeling that he has no idea where to place it or give it the space it might need. He wants to take and learn and listen, heedless and careless, the light that Barry carries with him starting an excitement in him he hasn't felt in years.

"Most scientists accept that there are things their field can't explain." Barry sighs. "I don't know."

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I'm not ashamed of chasing the impossible. I just–" Barry makes a half-hearted gesture at him, eyes scanning him up and down, and it isn't until Barry stutters, "I don't–" that he realizes what's really going on.

Barry doesn't want to give him any reason to be ashamed of him. But what could Barry possibly say that he'd find too embarrassing to have associated with him? There are so many people who would run screaming the moment they found out he had a kid, but Barry seems to be the opposite. Barry likes Eva, she's what brought them closer together in the first place. There are few things Barry could say that would make him turn tail and run.

He walks over and pulls up another chair, its legs scraping across the floor. He sits down opposite Barry, their knees not quite touching, but close enough to be mistaken for more than two colleagues simply talking about work.

"Tell me," he insists, because he's not about to let Barry dictate what he can and can't feel, especially not about something still out of his reach. If it's something he can't handle they can still see where to go from here, but he highly doubts there's anything Barry can say that'll scare him away.

Barry nods as if he's still trying to convince himself, but leans his elbows down on his knees. "I saw something impossible the night my mom died," Barry says solemnly. "There was red and yellow lightning, and inside the lightning there was a man."

His eyebrows knit together. Part of him instinctually chalks it up to a young boy's overactive imagination, a boy traumatized by the death of his mother and spinning the night into an unbelievable narrative.

"He's the man who killed my mom," Barry says. "No one believed me, not even Joe. But I know what I saw. My dad didn't kill my mom."

His chest aches with a phantom pain he thought he'd dealt with a long time ago – it's not the same, Julie's killer was caught an hour after the deadly shoot-out, but he knows what it's like to have no one understand, to be torn between the utter devastation of losing someone while you have someone else relying on you. And yet, in all of this, in all the horrors Barry has seen, all the years he's been screaming for someone to believe him, all this time he's been searching for the impossible, Barry has found it in himself to be kind.

"You're a cop." Barry shrugs. "I didn't–"

"It's not my place to question what you saw," he says in earnest, even though it sounds too unbelievable to be true; but he's spun stories about the night Julie died all the same, he's wondered how exactly it went down, how that bastard got the upper hand. If he'd been in Joe's shoes he would've arrested Barry's father all the same, but he's not in Joe's shoes, he's a guy hearing someone he likes quite a bit talk about his trauma in the healthiest way possible, someone who believes in science and the impossible all the same. How can he ignore that? Unbelievable as Barry's story is, he seems one hundred percent sure of what happened. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot."

Barry smiles softly.

"And I'm sorry for what you saw that night."

"I'm not," Barry says, calm as ever, as if it's a story he tells every time someone asks him about it. He has to hand it to Joe West; as a single father of not one but two young teenagers, he did a remarkable job raising both Barry and Iris. "If I hadn't gone downstairs that night I might've thought my dad guilty too."

"You're close?"

"As close as we can be."

The thought of Barry visiting his dad in prison breaks his heart, separated by a Plexiglas window, no real contact. He'd go out of his mind without a steady supply of Eva's hugs. It pains him even more to think that Barry thought he needed to hide this from him to save him the embarrassment. What kind of man would he be if he let something like that come between them? Barry's a remarkable man despite his trauma, but the way he carries it, as a burden he's all too willing to carry, that makes him beautiful.

Slowly, as if the decision hasn't been made until he's already halfway followed through on it, he reaches for Barry's hand, curling his fingers around Barry's, warm and soft to the touch, and looks him in the eye. "Look, Barry," he says softly, his mouth dry, but he hasn't been this sure about anything since the day he became a dad. "I know we're still trying to figure out what this is. But I want you to know you can be honest with me. About anything."

Barry nods softly, stroking his thumb over his fingers. "Okay."

"Why don't I," –he swallows hard, determined not to lose his cool. He may not know how to do this dating thing properly anymore, but that doesn't mean he can't talk like a person– "make you some dinner tonight. You can come over when Eva's asleep? We'll have to be quiet but–"

"I'd love to."

"Good," he breathes, relieved Barry stops him before that sentence got away from him. "It's a date."

Barry chuckles softly. "Yeah."

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Footsteps sound outside as Eddie pulls back his hand, his soft touch lingering deep beneath his skin, his left knee bumping his right as Joe walks into the lab with the coffee he'd promised earlier. He's never been more disappointed to see Joe in his life, not since he'd caught him making out with Becky Cooper when he was sixteen years old.

"Detective West," –Eddie stands up too fast to be inconspicuous, the awkward fidgeting somehow endearing, however surprising it is to see– "Good to see you."

"Thawne." Joe eyes him up and down. "Captain need you downstairs."

"Sure thing," Eddie breathes, locking eyes with him for a few seconds, communicating his earlier point with a brief glance all over again; _talk to me_, _confide in me_, _there's no need to be afraid_. There's something in the mere idea of having someone like that in his life that makes him want to chase after Eddie the moment he leaves the room. The only other person he can do that with is Iris.

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Hmm?" he hums, pulled back to a reality where he and Eddie don't actually have that kind of relationship yet, though the anticipation of building towards that makes his heart beat faster.

Joe takes a step closer, handing him his coffee. "You know he has a kid."

"A daughter, yeah," –he nods, and smiles at the memory of Eva– "I've met her. She's amazing."

Joe frowns at him, a sentiment soon mirrored in between his own eyebrows – he's as taken with Eva as he is with Eddie, he realizes, and that's exciting and scary at the same time. If they do this, if they start dating, he's making a commitment to not one but two people. But if anything of what Eddie just told him is true, if his support is real, if he's simply willing to listen, he's not sure he even needs his understanding. Iris' support has kept him going in so many ways, he can only imagine what Eddie's support could mean.

Joe whistles. "I hope you know what you're doing."

And he smiles, because, yes, he does know what he's doing; he's going to have dinner at Eddie's place tonight. Their first real date.

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**_tbc_**

_._


	5. Chapter 5

pre-relationship (ish) Barry/Eddie, 5000 words, pg-rated.

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_**If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me**_

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"You're not wearing that."

He nearly jumps out of his skin as Iris' voice fills the room, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up. After all these years he should be used to Iris' light tread, and he had left his front door unlocked for her to walk in unannounced, but that girl crept up on him time and again, a skill she perfected after years of sneaking in and out of a cop's house.

He turns on his heels, facing his best friend. "What's wrong with this?" he asks a little perturbed, because he's changed outfits three times and he finally decided on the suit and tie combination.

Iris raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "He's making you dinner at his place while his daughter's asleep. It's okay to dress down." She marches over and undoes his tie, tossing it offhandedly on the bed, before pressing a hand over his heart. "You nervous?"

"What gave it away?" He raises an equally unimpressed brow. He's been an even more uncoordinated mess of limbs than usual and hasn't been worth much of anything all day. At a crime scene this morning he'd tripped over his own shoelaces, which earned him pointed looks from quite a few police officers; he spilled his coffee when Captain Singh had yelled at him, and it'd taken him five minutes to find the results he wanted. At least, thankfully, Eddie hadn't seen him fumble through his day. In fact, they'd acted like consummate professionals, only interacting when necessary and only talking about the cases at hand. They both knew they had a date tonight, but neither of them felt the need to make a big deal out of it in front of people who didn't actually care. He's sure that when the time comes, about half an hour from now, things will get appropriately awkward before they find a rhythm again. But it's oddly reassuring to know that Eddie's as out of the loop with the dating scene as he is.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

He gestures at his wardrobe. "What will, oh wise one?"

Iris makes her way to his closet and starts rummaging through his clothes, quickly putting together a fresh attire she proudly presents to him. "Shirt, cashmere sweater, dinner jacket, jeans. Simple, yet elegant."

He eyes the whole thing suspiciously. It's not that he doesn't trust Iris, he'd trust her with his life if push came to shove, but he feels hopelessly out of control and that's not a feeling he particularly cherishes. It's been a week and a half since Eva magically appeared in his lab, and his life found a sudden forward momentum he's trying desperately to catch up with. Everything's moving so fast. But is it too fast?

"Bar, relax." Iris grabs him by the shoulders. "It's just a date."

"Easy for you to say." He fiddles with the clothes hanger. "You're in a steady– thing with Linda."

"And we found our thing by going on _a lot_ of dates." Iris smiles fondly, the way she always does when he manages to sound his minute envy over his best friend's relationship. He can't deny it hasn't crossed his mind, the thought of sharing his life with someone, finding someone who gets him the way Iris and Linda get each other, yet still gives him the space to do his own thing.

"You're not making me feel better."

Iris rolls her eyes and gives up, leaving him alone in the bedroom to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He changes into his new outfit as quick as he can, and has to admit he doesn't look all too bad, all things considered. It's better to accept that he'll be a mess until he's with Eddie, rather than fight it and be left in a worse state.

"What do you think?" he asks, stepping into the living room.

Iris smiles her delighted smile. "You look perfect," she says. "And you have nothing to worry about. He likes you. You like him. That's a lot."

There are sparse moments where he wonders if that's enough – Eddie showed him a tremendous amount of support when he listened to his impossible story, and he shows a lot of trust in letting him into Eva's life as well, but what if it's all moving too fast? What if all the spark they've experienced so far is nothing but a spark, and will eventually wilt and die out? Though he supposes the whole point of dating is figuring that out.

He has to stop questioning everything he does. He's going to have dinner with a nice guy. No need to overthink things.

He shows up right on time at Eddie's front door, rapping his knuckles on the door gently like Eddie requested; he didn't want to run the risk of waking Eva up on a school night and getting her all worked up over having a guest over. It's truly astounding how little he minds the thought of the little girl interrupting their night.

Eddie's eyes trace down the length of his body as he steps inside, making him more than a little grateful for Iris' help. "You look nice."

"I had help," he confesses, mesmerized by Eddie's simple white button-down over slacks combination. He hands Eddie the bottle of wine he picked up on the way over, following the other man into the living room.

"I hope you're not expecting anything too fancy." Eddie laughs awkwardly. "Had a bit of a day."

"Hey, no," – he shrugs, burying his hands in his pants pockets, trying his best to ignore the steady fastening of his heartbeat – "Take-out's fine with me too."

The table isn't exactly set for take-out; two plates, a small tray off to the side for something hot to rest on, cotton napkins, nice silverware, a trio of tea-lights burning in ceramic holders. It's romantic, and if that wasn't enough to knock the breath out of him Eddie's, "Sounds awful cheap, Allen," has him raising a hand to the back of his head, lips forming around nothing but air when he watches Eddie disappear into the kitchen. His eyes dart across the room waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to jump from beneath the table and tell him this is all an elaborate hoax masterminded by Iris and Linda to inject some excitement in his life. Because his heart hasn't raced this hard since Linda dared him to bungee jump with her; Iris had stood clutching her stomach laughing for an hour straight.

"I made lasagna." Eddie reappears from the kitchen, big blue oven mitts curled around a big tray of lasagna, and he releases a shaky breath. There are no hidden cameras, this isn't a hoax, this is a guy who seems to really like him, otherwise he wouldn't have gone to all this trouble. Though if Eddie can do this after he's_ had a day_, what could he achieve on a good day?

"Smells great."

"Eva helped," Eddie says as they both have a seat, "so there might be more cheese than you need."

"She knew I was coming?"

He opens the bottle of red wine, pops the cork and fills their glasses while Eddie serves the food, wondering idly how he managed to put Eva to bed if she knew he'd be here. He doesn't want to overestimate the impact he's had on her life after barely two weeks, but he's spend enough time with her to know that Eva has a mind of her own, a will she pushes through whether someone disagrees or not; it's a testament to Eddie's parenting skills that she doesn't get out of control more often.

"I may have omitted the specific circumstances." Eddie pulls a napkin in his lap, his brow setting in an adorably questioning frown; it unknots something in his stomach, a worry that had nagged at him all day. It's just a date, it's just dinner, it's just conversation with a guy he knows he can talk to. A guy who it turns out can be incredibly cute. "Does that make me a terrible father? I teach her not to fib and here I am..."

"A little white lie never hurt anyone."

Eddie nods, as if still trying to convince himself, and reaches for his glass of wine. "A toast," he says. "To coincidence."

"Coincidence?"

"This wouldn't be happening if my babysitter hadn't moved to Zimbabwe."

He laughs and clinks his glass to Eddie's, sipping the wine. There are quite a few coincidences that had to stack up for him and Eddie to get to know each other like they did, for him and Eva to meet that day, but he's toyed with the idea that something like this would have happened one way or the other. It might've taken longer, Eva might have been a bigger surprise, but he likes to think they would have at least tried a date or two.

They eat in silence for a few moments, until the silence lags too long and he's desperate for some conversation, no matter what it is. "I heard you made a big arrest in your forgery case today," he says, before questioning if shop talk is such a good idea. "Captain wouldn't shut up about it."

"Yeah." Eddie smiles, pride evident in his eyes. "We're getting really close. Just a few more leads and we'll have the entire operation."

The case had been one of the station's longest ongoing investigations when it finally landed on Eddie's desk; no one knew exactly how he did it, but only a few days after he'd been assigned the forgery case Eddie made a break-through, which saw him leading a small taskforce geared towards shutting down the whole forgery ring. It was nothing short of remarkable, so Captain Singh praised Eddie's work every chance he got. Even Joe, who'd hardly worked with Eddie, was impressed by the new detective's diligent investigative work.

"I know what they're saying about me," Eddie's voice pulls him back to reality. "The guy who actually keeps score of his arrests?"

"You're new." He shrugs a little, even though excuses can barely take the sting out of the things they say about him behind his back. The CCPD hired him because he's one of the best at what he does, and he's the best because he worked hard and never backed down from a challenge. That didn't negate the fact that he was only twenty-five and ran the crime lab almost single-handedly – Rudy worked the night shifts, and Singh made sure he had help from the occasional intern, but most of the work fell on his shoulders. Add to that his connection to Joe, and he often became the butt of jokes around the precinct. "I can imagine you want to prove yourself."

"Didn't plan on it," Eddie says. "I was going to start over, be a little less controlling. Doesn't seem to be my speed though."

"What made you decide to come to Central City?"

Eddie's eyes fall to the table and he mulls over his answer too long to go unnoticed. He instantly regrets asking. "I needed a change," Eddie answers. "A big change. Life wasn't–"

"I'm sorry," he interjects, "I didn't mean to–"

"It's okay." Eddie blinks languidly. "I'm just not sure if my tale of woe is appropriate first date conversation."

He should probably say something rather than stare dumbfounded, but all he hears is 'first date', and the excitement over that cascades through him all over again. This should be a part of his life, he should be going out on dates and meeting new people, not remain stuck in a single place – he's not haunted, he's not obsessed, he's not any of those things people like to lay at his feet. He's driven, at most, to correct an injustice he's carried for almost fourteen years. But he shouldn't sacrifice his entire life to that.

"The man who shot Julie got out on probation." Eddie's voice draws him back to the here and now. "He's not allowed near Eva or me, but– I couldn't stand the thought of him in the same city as Eva."

"That's terrible," he says, even though he longs for a stronger word to express his disgust. "He shot a cop, how did he get out?"

"Procedural–"

"–technicality." He sighs, all too familiar with the term. It's part of the reason he works so hard at what he does; he's heard of too many criminals set free due to a mishandling of evidence. That would never happen on his watch. "I am so sorry."

"It's okay." Eddie smiles softly, catching his eyes in the process. "It's been a good change. For both of us."

His cheeks heat up and he's forced to look away, his own eyes falling to the dinosaur books at the other end of the table. "Where does her dinosaur obsession come from, by the way?" he asks, if just to distract from his obvious heart eyes.

"My mom showed her _The Land Before Time_. I think she relates to Little Foot on some level. He–"

It hits him immediately.

"–lost his mom too. She has the same obsession with _The Neverending Story_, but the Big Bad Wolf scares her too much."

"But a T-Rex doesn't?"

Eddie laughs, shrugging, "Something about them being extinct. I'm not showing her Jurassic Park until she's well in her teens."

And then the mood becomes heavier again. Eddie casts down his eyes for a moment or two, swallows hard, and looks up at him. "Look, Barry, about Eva, I think we should– for her sake, I mean–"

He nods and reaches out without thinking, curling his fingers around Eddie's hand the same way Eddie had held his hand earlier today; Eddie had told him he could be honest with him about anything, despite this being new to both of them. Now is as good a time as any to start.

"We should take this slow." He strokes a thumb over Eddie's knuckles. "I understand. She comes first."

"Thanks, Barry." Eddie lays his other hand over their locked ones. "I'm glad we decided to do this."

"Me too," he says softly. It's crazy how badly he wants it now that there's a chance; the opportunity to get to know someone, talk to them, go on dates, start something he's not even sure he's prepared for. But isn't that usually where love starts? Where you least expect it?

Eddie's cellphone rings.

He releases Eddie's hand, drinking a few big gulps of wine while Eddie talks on the phone. By the sound of it their night will be cut short, but he's not about to feel sorry for himself. They had a great night, pretty much decided they'll give this a real try, and he'd be the last person to get upset over work getting in the way. Come to think, he might not be the most stable guy to have around a six-year old. Should that worry him?

"I have to head into the station," Eddie says, pocketing his phone. "We have a suspect. We have to move on him now. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He stands up alongside Eddie. "I'm the last person who'd call you out."

"I'll give Mrs Cole a call," Eddie says while grabbing his badge and gun, hooking both along his belt, and shrugs on his jacket; it's surprising how quickly Eddie transforms into Detective Thawne. "She can watch Eva until I'm back."

"I can do it," he blurts out. "I'm not on call."

"I can't ask you–"

He's nodding before Eddie can finish speaking; it's too much of a hassle to wake up a neighbor in the middle of the night, and besides, he's already here. "But you can," he says. "I'll clean this up, watch her. Beats sitting home alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Eddie, she's asleep. If she wakes up I'll tell her you're at work. I can even let her call you."

"Only if you're sure."

"I am." He offers a reassuring smile. "Go."

Eddie releases a breath biting at his bottom lip. "Okay," he assents eventually, and curls a hand around his shoulder, his skin vibrating where their bodies meet. "Call me if anything comes up."

"Of course," he says softly, trying his best not to trip a half step closer at the contact, trying to assert at least some level of self-control while he still can. He doesn't want to rush this, for his sake but Eva's too; he wants to make sure that what they're doing is right for them both, that it's something good and solid and– unless those are the same excuses that have kept him from dating all this time. Deep down his desire for Eddie has started burrowing up to the surface, and it doesn't help that Eddie likes to show affection through these short but meaningful touches.

"Thanks, Barry." Eddie's eyes flicker up at his briefly, it's a second and it's gone, until Eddie's the one who ventures closer; he leans in a little, reaches half an inch higher on tiptoe, and places a short and hesitant kiss on his cheek. Eddie's hand squeezes around his arm and then he's gone, disappeared with his touch along with it– and he's left with a little less oxygen in his lungs.

He turns just in time to watch Eddie disappear through the front door, his skin left with a distinct imprint of Eddie's lips.

Silence returns to the apartment, a clock ticking in the kitchen and some street noise the only sounds to assert the world around him, and he just stands, in the middle of the room, for what must be more than five minutes.

It's a fairly large apartment for a guy living on a detective's salary, but Iris would tell him never to compare anyone's home with the fire hazard shoebox he lives in – he gets by on his own in the small space, whatever nights he spends alone he simply needs the couch and the television, and it's not like he ever has any guests over. He likes his apartment, but it's nothing compared to Eddie's. The toys on the coffee table, the pictures on top of the cupboards, the coloring books on the living room table... Eddie's apartment is a home, and if at all possible that puts him right at ease. He understands places like these, love interwoven intricately in every piece of furniture, every stain on the carpet, every scent, or chip in the paint.

Eddie's a dad. And that simple thought is enough to make him smile.

The next half hour he spends clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen as best he can, but given how organized Eddie is he'll probably do it over again once he gets back. After that he settles on the couch and watches some television – Oliver Queen returning to Starling seems to be bigger news than the mayor getting killed by would-be vigilantes – and unlike similar nights at his own place he doesn't feel quite so alone. Eva's asleep down the hall, Eddie's a phone call away, and while his life is far from empty, he now realizes the outlines of his social isolation, his loneliness even.

He doesn't want to be lonely anymore.

"Daddy!" a high-pitched little voice wakes him up half an hour past midnight; he must have dozed off without realizing, but he's on his feet and sprinting towards Eva's bedroom in no time, without once tripping over his own feet. "Daddyyyy," Eva calls again, urging him to quickly push through the door to see what all the fuss is about.

"Barry?" Eva's voice sounds frail and frightened, like she woke up from a bad dream and left weak in fear of more nightmarish creatures.

"Hey... dinosaur," he says, when another term of endearment doesn't immediately come to mind, and sits down by her side.

"Where's daddy?" Eva folds her arms on top of her sheets, also covered entirely in dinosaurs; her stuffed animal, whose name he forgets, lies pressed up to one side of her face.

"He had to go into work for a bit. Do you need anything?"

The light from the doorway casts a precise column over her pillow, her blond curls in disarray.

Eva pouts. "I had a bad dream."

"You know dreams aren't real. They can't hurt you."

"The bad man is real."

"The bad man?"

Eva dives underneath her sheets. "The one who hurt my mommy," she cries in an even smaller voice. There are pictures of Julie all over the apartment, including one by Eva's bedside; Julie was a beautiful blonde, green eyes rather than Eva's blue ones, but he now understands where Eva got her curls. A pang of pain touches his heart thinking about his own mom, about losing her, about the memories he managed to hold on to. Eva doesn't have any of that. She just has the nightmares.

He digs for Eva in the sheets. "No one can change what happened to your mommy, Eva. But the bad man's far away and can't hurt you. And if there's anyone who can protect you from the bad man it's your daddy."

Eva nods while rubbing her eyes, clearly sleepy.

"And this little guy." He grabs the plushie by Eva's head and boops it to her nose.

Eva giggles and pulls the triceratops into her arms. "Cera's a girl."

"Of course. My mistake."

"Can you protect me too, Barry? Because you're an SCI?"

"CSI," he corrects, beaming ear to ear – his interaction with kids has so far been limited, but if they're anything like Eva he wouldn't mind having some of his own one day. "And yes, I can. In fact, I'm staying right here until you fall asleep again."

It doesn't take long for Eva to fall asleep, for her breathing to even out and her restless legs to quiet, but he remains by her side for a good half hour to make sure no more nightmares wake her up in a panic. The nightmares were the worst part for him; if the dark didn't scare him his dreams of red and yellow lightning did, always leaving him powerless and mute. He hurts in all the same places thinking Eva has nightmares even without the blunt force of a trauma.

He settles back on the couch around 1am, sleep dragging him down too; it wouldn't hurt if he could catch a few hours of sleep before he heads into work in the morning, not that anyone ever expects him to be on time. He's not sure why he's symptomatically late to everything, though, surprisingly, he wasn't late tonight. Maybe he simply lacked the proper motivation up until now.

His phone buzzes with a text.

**Text from Eddie:** Everything okay?

**Text to Eddie:** Eva's fast asleep. You raised one hell of a kid, detective.

He blinks at his screen right after he hits the 'send' button – he really needs some sleep; flirting over texts is not in his skillset.

**Text from Eddie:** Might be all night.

**Text to Eddie:** I'll be sure to catch some sleep ;) What time does Eva get up?

**Text from Eddie:** Seven. Don't let her push you around... x

His phone's alarm goes off at exactly six forty-five. He checks Eddie's bedroom, but the bed hasn't been slept in, still meticulously made from the night before. He has no new messages, so he guesses it's up to him to wake up Eva and get her ready for school; he trusts that Eva can tell him where to take her should Eddie not be home on time.

He washes off most of his exhaustion in the bathroom, before making his way to Eva's room again, pushing through the door gently. "Eva," he calls, a little ball stirring in the small bed. "Eva, it's time to wake up."

The little ball moves again and giggles, but not a single curl comes peeking from underneath the sheets. So he walks over and starts tickling the ball.

"No-o-o." Eva laughs, thrashing in the bed until she finally emerges, wiping her wild hair from her eyes. "Are you taking me to school, Barry?"

"If your dad isn't home soon, yes."

Eva sits up rubbing her eyes.

"Thing is, I don't really know how to do this? So I'm going to need you to help me out, okay?"

He figures honesty is still the best policy, even where toddlers are concerned. And it turns out honesty pays off: Eva climbs out of bed and hops over to her closet, picking together an outfit that looks to be acceptable. He smiles to himself, giving Eva some privacy to get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later Eva finds him in the living room, a brush stuck in the thick of her hair, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a sulk; he barely manages to stifle a grin. She turns around so he can dig the brush out and walks her to the bathroom, where she can get up on a stepstool and look into the mirror. He starts to carefully and patiently comb through her curls.

"Can you braid my hair?"

He catches Eva's bright blue eyes in the mirror; Iris used to braid her hair when she was younger but she never let him anywhere near it. "I don't really know how."

"That's okay." Eva giggles. "Neither does daddy."

His eyes narrow and he purses his lips, quickly grabbing for his phone and pulling up his Youtube app. It's not that he wants to do better than Eddie, or that he has anything to prove here, but maybe he could give it a try.

"What are you doing?"

"I am going to learn how to braid your hair."

Eva squeals and starts jumping up and down.

Turns out braiding long hair is a lot more technical than he ever thought it could be; he can't for the life of him figure out how Iris did this on her own all those years – the French braid, the fishtail braid, the halo braid? He has to try a few times, but Eva remains remarkably calm – mostly because she's so excited, he reckons, – but he eventually manages two regular French pigtail braids, big and fluffy due to Eva's curly hair.

They hurry into the kitchen, having lost a decent amount of time in the bathroom already, and Eva expertly guides him through her routine: cereal in the second top cupboard, bowls in the next, while she grabs the milk from the fridge and a spoon from one of two drawers in the kitchen. She tells him what to put on her sandwiches and to slice her apple, because she lost a tooth just the other day biting into one.

It's only been an hour, but he already feels like he's part of the team Eddie and Eva make up; it's almost unsettling how happy that makes him. He had a great family growing up and he got beyond lucky to find another one with Iris and Joe, and sometimes he misses it. When he moved out it was time to be on his own; he had a steady job and no one monitored when he came and went in pursuit of his 'wide world of weird' cases, but it gets lonely, being on his own. He's never been alone, not a day in his life, but he's the kind of person who needs people around. He suspects Eddie might be the same.

Five minutes before they're set to leave for school, the lock on the front door turns. In walks Eddie, a little worse for wear, clearly exhausted after pulling an all-nighter at the precinct.

"Daddy!" Eva shouts, and shoots up from her chair to sprint towards the front door.

Eddie catches his daughter effortlessly in his arms. "Hey, sweetie." Eddie smiles wide, transforming in front of his eyes; some of his exhaustion wanes, a bright smile to greet Eva first thing in the morning. He wonders if the same transformation ever happened in his dad or Joe when they were working all night.

"Look what Barry did." Eva twirls a few circles.

"Look at you, that's amazing. You look so beautiful." Eddie beams. He pulls Eva close and squeezes her into another big hug, reciprocated immediately. "Now go brush your teeth."

Eddie stands up again, watching Eva run off, and he takes the time to walk over.

"You braided her hair?" Eddie breathes with a smile of contentment, the weight of the world dropping off his shoulders; his eyes shine and entrap him, his smile like sunlight, and suddenly it's a little harder to breathe again.

"Y–Youtube tutorial," he stutters, wholly engrossed in everything Eddie Thawne. Is it possible to feel so much for someone in such a short amount of time, to feel like you know them on some level, and know for a fact that you don't mind that he has a kid? As far as he's concerned, Eddie and Eva are a package deal, and he's pretty sure he fell in love with Eva long before the though of loving Eddie even occurred.

Eddie tracks a step closer, a hand around his waist and in the midst of his first ever heart attack Eddie pushes their lips together. He breathes in sharply, shocked by the sudden change in pace, but raises both his hands to Eddie's face; he's not about to pass this up, he's not about to turn tail and run from something potentially beautiful. His lips part against Eddie's, their mouths slowing down, savoring every single sensation as it happens. He can taste Eddie's exhaustion, sense the stress wired in his shoulders and neck, but some of that disappears once Eddie licks inside his mouth, eager with a hint of desperation, slow yet deep.

"Sorry." Eddie huffs a laugh, drawing circles through his sweater at the small of his back as their foreheads press together.

"Don't be," he whispers, and closes his eyes, his spine tingling where Eddie's hands play against it. It didn't feel rushed, it didn't feel wrong or too fast, and it definitely left him with the sense that there's something more between them they have to explore. They owe that to themselves now.

Eddie tenses when the bathroom door opens, and there's only one thing he can think to do, reluctant as he might be: he takes a respectful step back, away from Eddie's body, from his lips, from his eager hands. But they talked about this.

"Let me take her to school." He picks at his lips. "You need sleep."

"Is Barry taking me to school too?!" Eva comes flashing into the living room, her coat on, backpack strapped around her shoulders, her lunch in one hand. "I know the way, I can show you!"

Eddie kneels in front of Eva. "You be good." He kisses her forehead, zipping up her coat a little higher and pulls one of her pigtails from beneath the straps of her backpack. "And have fun in school."

"And learn lots of things." Eva beams, much like her dad. She kisses Eddie's cheek and skips to the front door, already halfway down the hall before she shouts, "Come on, Barry!"

He follows Eddie to the front door.

"Thank you for this."

"Any time." He smiles. "Did you get your man? Your guy—your suspect?"

"Barry, _come_ _on_!" Eva shouts through the hallway.

Eddie laughs. "I'll tell you all about it. See you around, Allen."

He forces his eyes to focus on Eddie's, rather than his lips; Eva's right there, she might see, and he won't disappoint Eddie by breaking his promise. They'll make more time for themselves. "See you later, detective."

The walk to Eva's school takes about ten minutes, and he grows instantly self-conscious seeing all the other moms and dads drop off their kids. At the end of the day Eva isn't his daughter, and he's not sure he should even call Eddie his boyfriend yet; he's never felt more out of place. Did Joe feel this way when he came to live with them?

"Barry," Eva asks, tugging at his arm, "Do you like my daddy?"

"Of course I like your daddy."

Eva rolls her eyes dramatically, and sighs. "Not like that."

He takes a deep breath and kneels in front of Eva like he's seen Eddie do, careful not to seem too amused with her behavior. She's quite the little lady, Eva Thawne; a will of her own, a little dramatic, but an unbreakable chipper spirit. He relates to Eva in a lot of ways, he understands her nightmares, her fears. Maybe that's why he already feels so protective of her.

"Would it be okay?" he asks, choosing honesty again. "If I liked your daddy?"

Eva nods enthusiastically.

He smiles. "Have a good day at school."

Much to his surprise Eva surges forward and throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back and waves her off once the first bell rings.

He could get used to this.

.

.

**_tbc_**

_._


End file.
